


three in the afternoon

by indecisivebehaviors



Series: Can't fight this feeling [1]
Category: Cobra Kai (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Divorced Daniel, Excessive Drinking, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, johnny just really want to get drunk but daniel is just so sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 11:21:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29452986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indecisivebehaviors/pseuds/indecisivebehaviors
Summary: Johnny just really wanted to get drunk and forget about how badly he'd fucked everything up.He didn't expect to have to deal with LaRusso too.or; everything is the same except Daniel LaRusso gets a divorce.-----------A prequel to 'stay with me' set somewhere after the S2 finale
Relationships: Daniel LaRusso/Johnny Lawrence
Series: Can't fight this feeling [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2200365
Comments: 17
Kudos: 81





	three in the afternoon

It’s three in the afternoon and Johnny is fully prepared to get absolutely shit-faced.

Who could blame him really? Everything was a fucking disaster. Miguel’s still in the hospital, Robby’s still missing, his kids were _hurt_ , and motherfucking Kreese had recruited half of his students and taken over his dojo.

In this situation, he thinks getting drunk at three in the afternoon is a perfectly reasonable thing to be doing.

So it really throws a wrench into his plan when he sees _Daniel fucking LaRusso_ chugging down a martini like it was water, before laying his head down on the bar in front of him. He sees two other empty glasses by his elbow and the kicked puppy expression on his face and he honestly thinks about turning right there on his heel and finding another bar.

But, he reminds himself, that this is the only bar within reasonable walking distance that serves alcohol this early, and he is not going to let LaRusso of all people make him pussy out of drinking at his own bar damn it.

And that’s how he finds himself sliding into his seat a few stools over, ordering his usual when the bartender comes over. He sees Daniel’s head shoot up at the sound of his voice, but doesn’t even acknowledge him while he takes a long pull from his beer.

At least he tries not to until Daniel bites out, words slurring a bit, “What the actual fuck are you doing Johnny?” It isn’t often that he’s ever heard LaRusso swear before so the sound of it has him looking over with a scowl.

“What’s it look like LaRusso?” He holds up the bottle, and the man glares right back.

“I _mean_ what are you doing here?”

Johnny rolls his eyes and turns back to his drink, “You don’t own the fucking bar, LaRusso. If you’ve got a problem with me being here you can take a hike. Besides this was my place first.”

Daniel doesn’t reply, just turns to the already very tired looking bartender and orders another martini.

Johnny’s on his seventh bottle, and Daniel’s managed to put away another glass and a half before he finally speaks up, sounding drunk and very dejected, “What the hell are we even doing, man?”

He shrugs and is bordering on just tipsy enough to be honest, “Well we both managed to fuck up basically our entire lives, and the lives of pretty much everyone else, over a thirty-year long dojo rivalry.”

LaRusso, surprisingly, laughs at this, “Yeah, uh, I guess that’s just about it huh? We couldn’t leave well enough alone and everyone else got caught in the crossfire too.” The grin on his face looks more like a grimace, “Literally, everyone who has ever given two shits about either of us.”

Okay, yeah, Johnny does have to admit that he’s right about that, but just because he came here to wallow in his beer didn’t mean he wanted to actually think about any of the shit that led up to this point alright?

So instead of saying anything back, he just waves over the bartender and orders another beer.

He doesn’t know how long they both sit there, but before long it starts to get dark outside and more people slowly start to flow into the bar. He’ll think, later, that it should be more surprising when Daniel gets up, half-full glass in hand, and collapses into the seat next to him. The silence, oddly enough, isn’t really uncomfortable, but he’s so used to LaRusso talking his ear off at any given opportunity that he can’t help but feel like something is very off about the whole situation. Y’know. Other than the obvious.

He tells himself it’s just to bring back some sense of normalcy to his otherwise currently very confusing existence when he says, “If you keep throwing back all of those girly drinks, you’re gonna give yourself a wicked hangover tomorrow.”

LaRusso actually snorts into his glass, before taking a long drink, “Says the guy on like his tenth beer.”

“Suit yourself man, but if you really wanted to get wasted, you should’ve just ordered shots.”

“You trying to get me drunk Johnny Lawrence?” and it’s confusing, the way his voice is almost _teasing_.

“Nah, you seem to be doing a damn good job of that yourself.”

It’s easy, almost, when they flow back into their old habits- the merciless teasing, egging each other on, always pushing and pulling each other, but there isn’t any real bite to this right now, and Johnny tries not to think too much about why his stomach feels weird when Daniel laughs, actually genuinely laughs, at one of his awful jokes. 

He also tries not to think too hard when he pulls Daniel on his feet and drags him to a booth tucked away in a far corner. It’s too loud by the bar now, he thinks, overcrowded with the most recent string of new patrons. They sit way closer than really necessary, but hey the booth is kinda small and it’s easier for Daniel to hear his very clever insults. And with every teasing jab and petty insult, LaRusso only seems to shift closer into his space, tucking himself almost completely into his side, but he’s really not thinking about it, really he isn’t, and hey if he throws his arm casually over the back of the booth, almost around Daniel’s shoulders, he’s just trying to get comfortable.

It’s fine.

They lapse into silence after a bit and Daniel still has a little tipsy smile on his face. He knows a very similar one is mirrored on his own face, and honestly? This is kinda nice.

So it seriously throws him for a loop when Daniel’s face suddenly drops and he turns to look at Johnny fully. He doesn’t have the time to process how close his face is before, “Amanda wants to get a divorce.”

He sits up straighter in his seat, startled, because that was the absolute last thing he expected to hear tonight, “Wait, what?”

Daniel shrugs, but his face is just so incredibly sad, and it makes his stomach do that weird thing from earlier, and Johnny decides that that look is absolutely unacceptable on his face. He isn’t quite sure what to say in this situation though so he can only get out a stilted, “That... really fucking sucks.”

He chuckles but there’s no joy in it all, and he sort of just collapses into his side. He tries again, racking his brain for what he thinks the other man might want to hear, “She... she can’t really mean that man, she’ll get over whatever it is eventually.”

LaRusso somehow manages to dig himself even further into his side, “She served me the papers this morning. It’s why I came here in the first place.”

“Shit.” The quiet is tense for a long time after that before Daniel speaks up again, and Johnny kind of has to strain his ears cuz he’s mostly buried his face into his shirt.

“It’s been coming for a while now. Ever since I saw you at the dealership. She didn’t understand why I was doing it. Why I kept having to one-up you all the time. Honestly, I’m not sure why I did it either.”

And Johnny really doesn’t know how to respond to that, so he doesn’t. At some point in the lingering silence, he finds himself sitting with Daniel basically halfway in his lap, his chin kind of resting at the top of his head, with a hand at the back of his neck rubbing slow, unconscious circles.

A bit later he hears Daniel groans audibly from below him, “This is totally gonna be the worst fucking hangover tomorrow isn’t it?”

He smirks, “I did tell you so.”

“Shut up, Johnny.” There’s no heat in his voice.

He chuckles and nudges at his side, “Alright c’mon LaRusso, I think it’s time you went to bed.”

Daniel must really be very drunk because he doesn’t even fight him when Johnny takes the keys from his hand and leads him to his car. They’re both already sitting with the car turned on before Johnny realizes that he probably can’t just drop Daniel off at his house and makes the executive decision to just let the man sleep off his hangover on his couch. The ride is silent, Daniel passing out in the passenger’s seat almost as soon as they pull out of the parking lot. Johnny isn’t sure how to work the radio in this car, with all of its fancy buttons, and decides it’s better if he doesn’t risk waking him up anyway.

When they pull into the parking lot at his apartment, he just sits there for a minute, trying to get his bearings before looking over to where Daniel is sleeping. He’s surprised to find that even after tonight, he looks almost peaceful, under the bright street lamps. The lines on his face have smoothed out some and the way he’s curled in his seat, facing him, reminds him of the Daniel he knew in ‘84. Mouthy, too loud, and with the biggest fucking doe eyes he’d ever seen. He finds that he hates the idea of waking him up now, but he knows that Daniel will definitely regret sleeping in the car overnight.

He unbuckles himself and exits the car as quietly as he can, walking to the passenger’s side and crouching down so he can gently shake him awake.

“Hey, LaRusso, get up. You can’t sleep here, and as small as you are there’s no way I’m carrying you all the way to the apartment.” Daniel only groans, and Johnny has to fight down the fond look that tries to creep on his face, “C’mon, Bambi, you gotta work with me here.”

Now _that_ seems to get his attention, cause he sits up and turns to glare half-heartedly at him, “Shut up, Blondie.” And okay, maybe Johnny can’t fight the look off his face anymore.

He helps him to his feet, lets him lean on him all the way to the front door, belatedly remembering to lock the car behind him. He fumbles with his own keys until he can get the door open, then they’re both staggering over the threshold, and he’s barely able to keep LaRusso upright when he trips over his own feet.

He leaves him to his own devices for a minute, having enough presence of mind to turn the lock on his own door before turning around, “Alright, couch is over th-!”

Johnny can’t finish his thought because when he turns around, he feels a sharp tug on his collar and he’s being pulled down against warm, chapped lips.

The other man’s eyes are closed and Johnny thinks for a split second about pushing him away, _he’s drunk and sad and this means nothing_ , but then one of his hands wraps moves to wrap around his neck, and the other’s in the hair at the back of his neck and- _oh fuck it_.

He grips Daniel by the hips and spins them so he’s pressing him flush against the door. He takes advantage of his surprised gasp, and then he’s tasting vodka and olives and something he can only think of as _Daniel_. 

It’s nothing like he thinks it should be. With them it’s always been rough and sharp edges and angry, always angry, but this he thinks is so much fucking better. Daniel kisses him and it’s soft, softer than he thinks he’s ever kissed anyone. They take their time, as Johnny maps the inside of his mouth with his tongue, and Daniel’s moans sound better in his ears than anything he’s ever heard before. His hands snake under the back of Daniel’s shirt, skin warm and flushed under his fingers, and the noise he makes is worth the sharp pain at the back of his head when Daniel’s fingers tug at his hair.

At some point, they slow, and Johnny pulls away just enough to lean his forehead against his, and they're both panting against each other’s mouths. When Daniel opens his eyes, he smiles, small, and sad but still there, and slides his hands down to cup the sides of his face.

“We should probably go to sleep now.”

And Johnny’s chest aches, but he can’t find it in himself to protest. So he nods and releases him and tries not to think about how cold he feels when he’s no longer touching him. He turns and walks slowly to the kitchen. He moves robotically, when he fills a glass from the tap and chokes down a handful of tylenol. When he looks up, Daniel has already kicked off his shoes and is sprawled out on his couch. So Johnny just fills another glass and sets it next to the bottle of pills on the counter, shutting off the lights on his way to the bedroom. He doesn’t bother to do anything other than kick off his shoes by the bed and collapse in the center. 

He stares at the ceiling for a long time, and tries to think about who he’d pissed off so much in his life for the universe to lead him here. That his high school rival was drunk, currently passed out on his couch. That said rival had kissed him within an inch of his life. That everything he’d done in his life had led him to this exact moment, unable to sleep and staring at the ceiling.

He’s still staring when he hears the door creep open, and he doesn’t have to turn his head to know who it is.

Daniel’s whisper is loud in the darkness of the room, “Your couch is atrocious. Scoot over.” He doesn’t even think twice about it.

He shuffles over in the bed just enough so Daniel can crawl in beside him. He doesn't say anything, but he does quietly lace their fingers together, squeezing his hand gently. Eventually, he hears Daniel’s quiet snores, and the sound lulls him into a dreamless sleep.

When he wakes up the next morning, Daniel is gone and the spot next to him is still warm.

He tells himself not to think about it.

**Author's Note:**

> all mistakes are my own!  
> also shout out to ghoststar(tumblr:phantomcomet) who is the sole reason for this fics existence!


End file.
